Tumgik
#steddie friendship
mustlovesteve · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
I loved the first commission so much, I couldn't resist ordering another one as a parallel of sorts! This lovely drawing is by @toktopus-art. It's based on a scene from Chapter 26 of my vamp!Eddie/Steve-gets-Vecna'd fic, laughing at the broken glass.
Scene excerpt is below, and the AO3 link to the fic is on my pinned post.
Steve wished they could just stay like this, but there were only two more songs left on this A-side. “Hey, can I see your bracelet?” Eddie asked. If not for his all-too-casual tone, Steve wouldn’t have suspected anything. “Pulling out all the stops, huh?” Steve asked wryly. Eddie flashed a shameless grin at him. Chuckling, Steve tugged his sleeve down before lifting up his wrist. To his pleasant surprise, the glow-in-the-dark effect was actually noticeable. Eddie took a moment to share in the admiration of the bracelet before grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging it down. “This is better, yeah?” Eddie asked. “Huh?” Steve turned to look at him again, but Eddie was staring straight up at the sky. “Than just sitting in your car in the freezing cold by yourself, I mean.” “I had Freddie Mercury with me.” “I’m serious.” Eddie finally turned his head to face Steve again. His expression certainly matched his words. Steve couldn’t help but tense up at the shift in tone, though he was swiftly eased by the way Eddie’s thumb brushed across his knuckles. “I...hate that you even have to ask.” Steve managed to smile, even though Eddie frowned at that. “Yeah, this is better.” One song left. It wasn’t fair.
3K notes · View notes
Text
“I don’t think I’m straight.”
Steve had reached that conclusion exactly ten seconds before saying it out loud. Laying upside down on the couch of his house with his best friend draping her legs on top of him.
“Is that what you were thinking about?” Robin asked, not lifting her eyes from her book.
“Yeah, it just makes sense.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Steve hummed thoughtfully. Did he want to talk about it? Was it important enough? Did it change anything?
“I feel the same,” he said. “I thought being gay would feel different.” For a second, Steve was sure Robin would tell him that was a stupid thing to think.
“Are you gay?” Robin asked instead, because she is Robin. She was able to ask something in a judgemental tone without being judgy.
“I'm not straight.” he repeated.
“Pretty sure there are more than two options.” She explained with a joking tone. It was lucky, she thought, that she found a zine hidden in a library when she visited her aunt in Indianapolis.
“How do I know what I am?”
“I don't know, actually,” she said, putting her book down. “I've never seen what the big deal with men is.” Robin explained, crossing her arms. “That's how I knew.”
“I definitely see the big deal with women,” Steve responded simply.
“What about men?”
“I think I always saw the big deal, I just pretended it did not exist.” Steve explained.
“Oh, sweet old denial.” She teased. “How do you feel about this?”
“I would feel better if I had better taste.” Steve deadpanned, causing Robin to laugh and kick him. He slid out of the sofa dramatically to the floor. “Kicking me while I'm most vulnerable, Buckley? I see your game.”
“I have been bidding my time to find your weak spot, Harrington.” Robin joked lightly, jabbing Steve’s legs with her foot. “You will fall, Steven!”
Steve retaliated by pulling her into the floor.
“Look who's falling now?”
“Whatever,” Robin pushed herself to sit upward, sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa. Steve mimicked her with his back against the coffee table. “Who is the guy?” she asked.
“I don't wanna tell you,” Steve whispered, more out of respect for their tradition than anything else. “You’ll make fun of me.”
“Of course I will,” she whispered back. Steve reached for her hand to intertwine their fingers and she held him without batting an eye. “That’s kinda my job as your soulmate.” Steve chuckled. “I have to make sure whoever it is doesn’t mess up our vibe, you know?” He didn’t.
“I’m sure he won’t."
"Are you really gonna make me guess?" Steve lit up at the suggestion. Before he could speak, Robin continued "I'm not gonna guess, just tell me."
"Are you afraid of getting it wrong and looking like a fool?" He teased.
"It's Eddie." She answered less than a second later.
Steve did not respond, shocked at her quick response.
"Who's the fool now, Steve?" The smile on her face was infectious to Steve, who poker her with his foot.
"How did you do that?"
"By having eyes."
"What do you think?" She closed her eyes and hummed as Steve waited for her response.
"I think he looks at you the same way you look at him."
"I should ask him out."
"I can be your wingman!" She exclaimed.
"Oh, my god, yes!"
"We have to make a plan," Robin yelled. She jumped to her feet, letting go of Steve's hand, and dashed up the stairs. "I'm going to get some paper."
Steve stayed behind, sitting more comfortably on the floor, and removing the magazines they had on the coffee table off.
They made a plan, that ended in more of a disaster which is a story for another time. There is only one thing that is important.
Eddie said yes.
2K notes · View notes
regeditt · 5 months
Text
*Steve standing with Robin & Nancy, waiting on Eddie*
Robin: you look so cute holding those roses waiting for your boyfriend
Steve: i don’t look cute i look cool
Robin: awww and you even have a little bow tie on your little suit, so formal so cute all for eddie
Steve: *throws roses on the ground* THIS IS WHY I DONT GO ON DOUBLE DATES WITH YOU, ROBIN.
Robin:
Nancy:
Steve: *picks them up, clearing his throat as Eddie approaches*
Steve: hi, babe, i got these flowers for you
Eddie: you look really cute tonight
2K notes · View notes
whoopssteddiefeels · 10 months
Text
If you think the CC boys aren't looking for Eddie, you're wrong
----
Steve opened his trunk and placed the groceries inside, Eddie’s special requests next to his usual staples and the excessive number of snacks he had grabbed for this week’s check in at Hopper’s cabin. Eddie was probably just being cute, requesting the same thing they had brought him in the boathouse, but Steve figured it would be just as cute to refill the request anyway. Anything to make Eddie smile and call him a sap in that overly sweet way he had.
He closed the trunk, pulling his keys out of his pocket. Already excited to get home to that amused smile and twinkling eyes.
“Where the fuck is Eddie?”
Steve jumped about a foot in the air, spinning on the spot, fumbling his keys in an embarrassing 3-part scramble that still ended with them clanking to the ground. He’s effectively trapped against his car, three boys glaring at him from a few feet away. How the hell did they sneak up on him in tandem like that?
They stood in a V-formation, arms crossed and eyes angry. The one in front, a black boy with braces and close-cropped hair who was doing his best to stare down at Steve despite their roughly even height, spoke again. “We don’t know what is going on, what happened, but you and Henderson are definitely involved.”
“I… I don’t…” Steve looked around quickly, hoping something would appear and save him from this conversation. Nothing did, the parking lot was empty except for them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit, man!” the smallest of the three exclaimed, pointing angrily in Steve’s face. “Whatever the fuck happened involved your stupid basketball team and our freshman members and god KNOWS what else but there’s no way Eddie would ever-”
“He didn’t do anything to that girl,” the first boy interrupted, Jeff, Steve’s brain slowly supplied, based on stories he’d heard from both Dustin and Eddie. This must be the rest of Corroded Coffin. Jeff, Gareth, and… shit what was the third kids name? Doesn’t matter, he needed to come up with an exit strategy fast.
Steve raised his hands, painfully aware that his keys were still on the ground. “Look, guys, I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me. Yeah, I don’t believe Eddie did anything to Chrissy. Henderson is at home, I haven’t even seen him in days. I don’t know where Eddie would’ve gone after the earthquake, you’d know better than-”
“You’ve got his battle jacket in your back seat.” Unnamed member cut in, voice hard.
“You just bought honeycombs, yoo-hoos, and camel cigarettes.” Gareth, the little one, chimed in.
Jeff took a step forward, making sure Steve was looking at him before he slowly reached forward and carefully pulled on the chain around Steve’s neck, drawing the guitar pick out from where it had rested under his shirt. The younger boy just raised his eyebrows, emphasizing the implication.
Steve sagged against his car, and Jeff let the necklace slip from his fingers as it was pulled back with his movement. It fell against the outside of his shirt, the red and black guitar pick stark and damning against the light blue of today’s polo.
Steve rubbed at his face, refusing to meet the trio of accusing glares. These were Eddie’s friends. His brothers according to the metalhead in question. There was no reason for Steve to be wearing that necklace other than what it was: a claim. They would know that, better than anyone. There was no getting out of this.
“Jesus H. Christ, okay. Okay. He’s… at my place. Just, follow me, I guess.”
3K notes · View notes
bleedingoptimism · 5 months
Text
As Steve walks into the grocery store he pulls his sunglasses off, only to put them back on again immediately. The lights of the store make the back of his eyes sting. Hungover from a bad headache, not that people here would care why. Whatever, is not like everyone already doesn’t think he’s an asshole. He doesn’t need to perform for anyone anymore.
A guy, singing to himself down one of the aisles peaks his attention, he’s tall and has long black hair and Steve belatedly remembers that he’s Jon’s friend from California.
“Argyle?” he asks, more to himself than to him, but Argyle turns and smiles at him as if they are old friends. He approaches and grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little.
“Oh! Hi Stevie!” 
The confidence and attitude he carries himself with make Steve smile for some reason. It’s like he’s very sure of himself but in a nice way, not in a douchey way, like his high school buddies were. Although hearing someone call him “Stevie” reminds him of Tommy and a very different time and he can’t help but shrink inwards a little, “Oh no please, just Steve,” he says with an apologetic smile, pulling his sunglasses off again and placing them on his head. And because he doesn’t want Argyle to think he’s the douchebag, he explains further, “‘Stevie’ brings back bad memories,”
Argyle leans his head to the side with a pout but then smiles and squeezes Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, it’s fine, we can just make new ones, man! Better ones.”
Steve’s first reaction is to scoff. As if it were that easy… but then he thinks, hell, maybe it is.  Maybe it is and it makes him smile. Argyle is way too outgoing for it to be comfortable for other people, it’s kind of ridiculous. For a second, he wonders if Jonathan found it jarring when he first met him. But Steve finds it refreshing. He shakes his head and smiles,
“So what were you looking for? Maybe I can help?” he offers.
Argyle turns in a circle, letting go of Steve’s shoulder and opening his arms wide, like he’s presenting the store to Steve, “See man, I'm mentally preparing myself for the munchies. I kind of wanted to make a pizza but like sweet? You get me?”
“Like a pie?” Steve chuckles.
“That! Sounds delicious, dude! But I don’t know how to make a pie,” Argyle laments, and Steve has no idea what possesses him to say,
“I do. You want help?” 
Argyle stills his whole body and then shakes it before he starts snapping his fingers rapidly, startling Steve.
“Ok! Ok ok ok ok ok! Are you busy right now, man?”
“Just need to buy my groceries…” Steve says unable to keep the bewilderment off his expression.
“I’ll help you with that, we’ll buy things for the pie and then you invite me over, how’s that my dude?” Argyle says, no preambles, “I have a doobie and a lot of questions about all the shit that went down” he adds moving his eyebrows up and down quickly.
“What about Jon?” Steve can’t help but ask.
“Ah man, Jonny is with Nancy right now. Those two love birds had a lot to talk about, so I figured I’d make myself scarce.” Argyle answers, nodding apprehensively at his own statement.
Steve finds himself nodding along before saying, “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it!”
“Hell yeah, Stevie!” Argyle exclaims throwing his arms up and this time, Steve doesn’t cringe at the nickname.
After that, Argyle follows Steve through the store, helping him put things in the cart, making a few comments about differences in products or prices from California, but mostly staying out of the way and humming to himself. Steve asks him what he wants the pie to be (strawberries and chocolate) so he gets the ingredients for that too and then they are off.
When they get to his place, Steve tells him to get comfortable while he puts stuff away but Argyle helps him out before sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen and watching as Steve gets all the ingredients for the pie laid out.
“You know dude, you’re kind of exactly how I imagined you’d be,” Argyle tells him, gifting him another one of his smiles. 
“Really?” Steve asks surprised.
“Jon told me all about you, man,” he answers nodding. 
Steve raises an eyebrow at that, “And you still want to hang out with me?” he asks, half judgy, half defensive.
“Of course! Because you know what I got from it, dog?” Argyle asks and Steve just stares at him, afraid to know the answer.
“That you are a good person, Stevie! So you got off to a rocky start dude, so what? I think that makes you all the more interesting.”
Steve purses his lips in an attempt not to smile and raises an eyebrow.
“You went to hell and beyond for someone you didn’t even like! You’ve paid your dues and a half for whatever shit you did when you were younger and it could’ve made you bitter or closed off, man! But it didn’t. Not even the tiniest little bit. You barely know me and you invited me over and offered to bake pie for me, dude!” 
Steve chuckles and shakes his head, “You got all that from what Jon told you? Also you invited yourself over,” he jokes. 
Argyle laughs and then just shrugs, choosing to ignore Steve’s question about Jon.
He lets it go, and Argyle lights up the joint while he starts making the pie. After they both get a few hits, Argyle starts asking him about everything. ‘Start from the beginning’ he says.
Steve starts off a little stiff but gets looser with the weed and Argyle's presence and ends up telling him practically everything. Argyle asks a few questions every once in a while, sometimes about the process of making the pie. Sometimes some really intense shit like ‘and how did that make you feel?’, ‘did you think you were going to die?’ ‘were you scared?’.
Steve answers everything honestly, and it feels incredibly cathartic. His favorite questions are the ones about the pie though, and he smiles the biggest when Argyle says next time he’ll make one for him.
In turn, Steve asks him how he met Jon and chuckles when Argyle confirms his thoughts and tells him Jon didn’t like Argyle one bit at first.
“He said I was too happy. He didn’t trust it. Dude couldn’t trust anyone that hadn’t gone through some kind of shit in their lives” Argyle laughs, “But I can thaw even the coldest of hearts, man! As we got to know each other, he realized that I did have my own shit going on, but that happiness was a choice for me. Is who I had chosen to be.”
They talk about that too, how it wasn’t an easy choice. How some days it’s harder than others, to keep at it. How all the Upside Down shit affected him too.
By the time the pie is done and the joint is gone, Steve feels incredibly close to Argyle. Like they’ve been friends forever. 
“So that’s pretty much it,” he says with a sigh after finishing a rant about why he doesn’t keep in touch with his high school buddies because Argyle had asked about them.
“Dude, you’ve been through so much,” he says solemnly.
“Yeah, you know that’s…. Life…” Steve says, shrugging. He doesn't know exactly what to say, suddenly feeling very awkward at being seen.
“Nah, Stevie. Me being kicked out of my house as soon as I was old enough to get a job ‘cause my parents couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and my younger siblings…. That’s life.” Argyle says seriously and quickly dismisses Steve's worried face adding, “It’s ok dude, they were great parents, they raised me well and I still go visit every other weekend” And then sighs and looks sternly at Steve again,
“Like I said, that’s life. What you’ve been through? Was hell”
“The kids had it worse- Ell-” Steve starts but Argyle interrupts him.
“That doesn’t erase what you've been through, Steve. It doesn’t make it less of a nightmare, man.” Steve just looks at Argyle as what he’s saying sinks in. 
“And you got through it, dude. You came out the other side even a better person than when it started and like- you saved lives! You saved my best friend's life and like- like- you should be proud of yourself Stevie. I’m proud of you, man” he finishes with a carefree smile. As if he hadn’t just rocked the ground Steve was standing on. And he doesn't know if it’s the weed, or Argyle’s words, or both but Steve closes the distance between them and hugs him.
“Oh, hey! Hugs! I love hugs!” Argyle laughs, and hugs him back, taking it all in stride.
“Sorry,” Steve sniffles embarrassed, “I didn’t know I needed to hear that till you said it,” he croaks.
“Nah, it’s good. I got you” Argyle responds, patting his back lightly.
The hug is wonderful, friendly, warm, and just the right length but when he’s stepping away from Argyle, he hears a wary sound from the kitchen door.
“Uhm…hi” 
It’s Eddie. Pocker-faced and cautious and Steve knows him well enough to know he’s freaking out inside.
“Oh, hi! Eddie! Good to see you, dude!” Argyle says good naturally and completely out of the loop. Steve smiles at him too and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand to dry them off a bit.
Whatever Eddie was thinking goes out the window when he looks closely at Steve and walks towards him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, “You okay?” he asks concerned.
Steve nods and Argyle clears his throat, “I’m going to… set the table for three,” he says, so maybe, not as out of the loop as Steve first thought.
Eddie completely ignores Argyle and grabs Steve’s face, his thumb caressing the underside of his eye, “You really ok?” he asks again and Steve chuckles,
“Yeah,” he answers with a smile.
Eddie hums and then looks back towards where Argyle is opening and closing cabinets in the dining room, looking for plates, “So… Should I be jealous?” he asks and Steve snorts amused, 
“Of course not,” he says.
“You sure? ‘Cause maybe your type wasn’t curls and big eyes, maybe it was long hair and weed all along,” Eddie presses and Steve can tell he’s trying to make a joke out of it but is actually asking for real and Steve gets frankly, really annoyed.
“You know what? Maybe you should be jealous. Argy would never accuse me like that,” Inwardly he cringes at the nickname but it gets the point across. Eddie’s face falls and he looks devastated and terrified for a second before Steve smirks bitchily at him and then Eddie is frowning.
“Asshole” he murmurs, despite still holding Steve’s face as if it were precious and fragile.
Steve steps closer, placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, “You started it” he says as an apology. Kind of.
Eddie huffs and moves his hands to Steve shoulder’s, one thumb pressed to his pulse, “I regret it” 
Steve hums, “Just for the record? A little possessiveness is kind of hot,” he says and pecks the tip of Eddie’s nose, “You questioning my feelings for you? Is not.” and then flicks it.
“Dully noted,” Eddie nods.
Steve looks him in the eye as he leans closer, kisses him fully in the mouth firmly, eyes open the whole time, and then whispers “Good boy,” before he steps away.
He smirks again seeing the full-body effect his little stunt has on Eddie. The way his eyelids fall, his mouth opens, the goosebumps on his arm hair, and the shiver that runs through his spine. He takes a moment to take it all in before he smiles, less predatory and more friendly. Eddie smiles back, and shakes his head amused, like he can't believe Steve is real. He does that a lot.
Steve then takes Eddie’s hand on his own and kisses his knuckles before moving past him and dragging him to the dining room with him, 
“Now c’mon. Let’s go eat pie with my new friend”
e͟n͟d͟
a coffee? a doobie? ☕🥐💕
988 notes · View notes
unclewaynemunson · 7 months
Text
Pt2 to this post
'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.
It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.
Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'
'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'
Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.
'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'
'What happened?'
He sighs. 'It's complicated.'
'Wanna tell me about it?'
The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.
But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.
He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.
'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.
Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.
'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'
'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.
Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.
'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'
Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.
'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.
'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'
She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'
'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'
She nods. 'Okay.'
For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.
'Is it Eddie?'
Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.
'Wha- what?'
'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'
'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.
Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'
Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'
'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'
'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'
Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'
To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.
'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'
'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'
'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'
'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.
Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)
1K notes · View notes
imfinereallyy · 1 month
Text
Eddie: Why don't humans have a specific noise that means "there are bees here, let's leave immediately." Why are elephants more advanced than us. Robin: We do have a specific noise for it. It sounds like this: Robin: "There are bees here, let's leave immediately."
920 notes · View notes
trashcanniballecter · 2 years
Text
Eddie: Dustin just called on the walkie and said Steve is in his Hoe stage?? Good for him I guess?
Robin: Hostage! STEVE IS BEING HELD HOSTAGE!!
Eddie: OH SHIT
9K notes · View notes
sarcasticassian · 8 months
Text
whenever someone asks how Robin and Eddie became best friends they just say it was through Steve because the soulmate of my soulmate is my best friend blah blah blah
what they don't tell people is they jumped headfirst into being besties when one day Steve was having a lollipop and of course he's gonna share it with Robin, they're platonic soulmates, its not gross to share the same lollipop but then later without thinking Steve also offers it to Eddie because Eddie has had Steve's dick in his mouth before, he's not gonna care about sharing a lollipop so all three of them share it without realising, sometimes it goes straight from Robin to Eddie and back without Steve even having a lick and afterwards they realise and decide, fuck it, the pact of friendship has been sealed with saliva, gay solidarity and a love of Steve so we may as well go all in
2K notes · View notes
loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
Robin’s always had a soft spot for Eddie Munson, but up until recently it had been in a distant kind of way; she appreciated his class clown act, the way it had a domino effect of keeping the heat off the band kids, how he hogged the spotlight for any passing douchebag’s attention.
But then they both literally dive into The Upside Down, and her appreciation reaches a whole new level.
They’re in the Wheeler’s garage, thanking their lucky stars that four bikes exist in 1983 (and yeah, Robin’s sure that if she thinks about the whole time thing for half a second more her brain will promptly melt, so she doesn’t).
Each of them are pushing their chosen bike down the driveway, in a dazed sort of silence—the high of the Lite-Brite worn off in the face of another grim journey through The Upside Down.
Steve is flagging, Robin can hear it: his breathing’s growing laboured as he walks, an occasional unsteadiness to him that’s setting her anxiety off all over again, because what if they were wrong, what if it’s really rabies, and it’s too late, it’s coursing through his veins, and he’s—they’re gonna lose him—
“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie says, swinging a leg over his saddle, “wanna race?”
“… Hmm? Sorry, what?” Steve says.
There’s not even that long of a delay in him speaking, but the pause still has Robin’s heart in her throat.
Eddie’s got one foot on a pedal now, ready to set off. He looks back at them with a shaky grin—like he’s terrified, but he’s still gonna have some fun anyway.
“I’m throwing down the gauntlet, King Steve. Bet I’ll be faster than you.”
Steve scoffs, stands up a little straighter before he mirrors Eddie, balancing on the bike with one foot on the pedal.
“How much are we betting?”
Eddie huffs. “Oh, no money involved,” he says nonchalantly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “This is just for the glory.”
And God, there’s that spark back in Steve’s eyes; it’s like Robin can physically see his competitive streak giving him strength.
Eddie Munson, you beautiful soul, she thinks, I could kiss you.
“Faster than me? Yeah, maybe in your dreams, Munson,” Steve says.
But Eddie’s already speeding off with a comical whoop; Steve curses as he hurriedly tries to catch up, yelling, “You dick, that’s cheating!”
“Not in my rulebook!” Eddie says with a cackle.
And for a little while, that’s enough to put Robin’s mind at ease: watching the pair of them taunt each other like kids—hearing Nancy laugh at the spectacle as she bikes alongside her.
But then she falls through the Gate, Eddie close behind her, and they freeze when Steve screams Nancy’s name with such fear.
Robin’s plunged back into a mind-numbing panic; she’s sure that her heart doesn’t even begin to slow until they’ve left the trailer park, until Steve’s control of the RV switches from ‘holy shit, we’re on the run, what have our lives become?’ to something more normal—the reliable, measured driving she’s familiar with, taking her to and from school or work.
Finally, she has time to, um… take stock. Of… things.
She wobbles her way over to Eddie, grabbing onto his elbow as Steve takes a turning.
Eddie instantly holds her up, a steadying hand around her waist. “Oh, hi. I’ve gotcha—” “Your music isn’t actually shit,” Robin says in one breath. “I know, um, on balance, it’s probably not the worst thing I could’ve said, but the delivery was—but, you know, considering I thought Nance was literally about to die, I’d say it was, like, kinda calm all things considered, but—”
Eddie’s chuckling. “Yeah, on balance,” he echoes teasingly, “you were pretty damn funny, actually. Uh, sorry for. Um. Screaming at you? Basically?”
“Basically,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, you were like impressively loud. Not quite eardrum-rupturing level, but y’know, I don’t actually know anyone who’s really had that happen to them; Amanda Wallis said she ruptured hers at the pep rally ‘cause she was standing too close to us—the band, I mean, but—”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, that’s bull, there’s no way that’d be loud enough to—”
“—I think she just had a grudge ‘cause David C on mellophone got literally the tiniest bit of spit on her, and he was only—”
“Yeah, well, everyone knows you sit in the splash zone at your own risk.”
“Exactly! She’s had plenty of time to learn marching band protocol.”
“Uh-huh, protocol,” Eddie echoes again, with a giggle.
He’s got a nice kind of laugh, Robin thinks: one where she’s never in doubt that he’s laughing with her rather than at her.
“That stuff you do’s pretty cool,” he says; with his free hand, he actually imitates her mime of playing a trumpet. “You must have good, uh…” She can see the exact moment that he’s having second thoughts about saying it, but he forges ahead anyway, with a hilariously uncertain, “Good… lungs?”
“Fascinating attempt at a compliment,” Robin says. “Luckily for you, I accept insults as, like, equal tokens of friendship.”
Eddie does a double take. He doesn’t go so far as letting out a questioning, “We’re friends?”, but he might as well have said it anyway: his eyes widen for a moment, like someone who’s just been unexpectedly asked out to prom.
Steve takes another turning; he does it smoothly enough, but even he can’t stop the RV from moving with it, and Robin stumbles again, very nearly ends up repeating how she toppled right onto Eddie in The Upside Down.
“Woah there, you’re good,” Eddie says, “just gotta find your, uh, what’s it called? Your equilibrium.”
“I don’t have any,” Robin says, all theatrical devastation, and Eddie snorts.
“Sure you do, Buckley. Look, just take my—yeah, that’s it, then just kinda straighten up… yeah, you’ve got it.”
And yes, after a minute or so, Robin’s footing does feel more certain, but she still keeps a stubborn grip on Eddie’s elbow, just in case.
“God, d’you know what I’m gonna do when all this is over?” Eddie says.
“Pray tell.”
“I’m gonna make a list. What was it you said, Madonna, Blondie…? Whatever, I’m getting all of them, m’never getting caught out like that again.”
“I’m hoping that needing music to evade the clutches of a serial killer from an alternate dimension is, um, strictly a one-time thing.”
“Don’t care,” Eddie says. “Still buying those tapes. Just in case.”
And yeah, it’s said partly in jest, but Robin can hear that he means it. Still, it’s the most optimistic that she’s heard him be so far: making plans for after, like he can really see a way through this. Like maybe he finally knows that they’ll help him get there.
“Need a list of tapes from you too, Buckley. You and Harrington.”
Robin smiles. Her first thought is of singing Total Eclipse of the Heart from the dirt-ridden floor of a mall bathroom, but then she thinks of every car ride with Steve, every time they’ve turned up the radio to belt along, and she knows that there are way too many songs to count.
“Forget a list,” Robin says, “I could fill a book. Same for big boy over there.”
Eddie blinks, like he’s suddenly taking stock, too. “Oh yeah,” he says, laughing lightly, “I did say that, huh?”
“Sure did. I was doubting my ears, too.”
Robin had been hoping they’d long since reached the point of being able to joke around with one another. But while Eddie does laugh again, he also starts biting at his thumbnail, glancing over at Steve in the driver’s seat.
“Um, hey.” Robin manages to keep her balance, briefly pressing her knee against his leg. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Eddie.”
“No, I know.” Eddie huffs self-effacingly. “I’ve kinda got permanent foot-in-mouth disease, my report cards would tell you that.”
Well, if he wants to pass it off as sometimes I just say the darnedest things, Robin would be a hypocrite to deny him.
It fascinates her in a sad sort of way though, how he veers between joking and nervousness—like he’s worried he’s intruding on their group, of overstepping somehow.
She wants to tell him: Look, we all got dragged into this, but we chose to stick around, and you’re no different.
But she no longer has the aftermath of Russian drugs to help bypass her own nerves, to kickstart her sincerity.
“Hey, you’re awfully quiet back there,” Steve calls, and Eddie startles.
Robin shakes her head. “Not us, that’s his—”
“Hello? Henderson, I’m talking to you.”
“We’re not even doing anything!” Dustin shouts back in exaggerated affront.
He’s sat on the backseat of the RV, peering out the window along with Lucas, Erica and Max. Robin stifles a chuckle at the sight; they look like they’re on a field trip—the cool kids at the back of the bus.
“Yeah, well, just checking,” Steve says, amused. “For all I know, you coulda been building a gigantic radio again on, like, the roof of this thing.”
“Cerebro,” Dustin says, just as Eddie lets out a baffled, “Uh, again?”
But then they’re pulling into The War Zone’s parking lot, and any chatter abruptly dies.
Afterwards, Steve gets off the road to park in a reassuringly deserted field. They don’t head outside right away (Robin’s not exactly looking forward to prepping Molotov cocktails), instead staying in the RV to eat junk food they’d grabbed beforehand.
Robin discovers that Dustin’s somehow bought five more cans of Pringles and snorts, declaring, “You’ve got a problem.”
At some point, Steve tries to sneak off to the bathroom so he can change his dressings—“And use actual proper bandages!” Robin calls to him; no offence to Nancy’s resourcefulness, but the torn shirt strips only do so much good.
It becomes a more comical than horrifying event, although she’s sure that’s down to Steve deliberately making it so, like a sleight of hand trick: playing it down as he keeps talking to the kids throughout, never wincing even once.
He ends up having to keep the bathroom door open to continue an argument with Erica over which Scoops Ahoy sundae was the best of all time—then figures that he might as well just step out into the open anyway.
At least the wounds have stopped bleeding—although the sight of Steve cleaning around them with bottled water is one that Robin could personally do without.
The kids are entirely unfazed. They flock to Steve, peering at the glimpses he lets them see like he’s just got a cool tattoo. Robin supposes that after El and whatever nightmare wormy thing was in her leg, they’ve seen everything.
Eddie, however, is another matter. He keeps quiet about it, not obvious at all, but Robin watches his face grow paler and paler before Steve wraps the new bandages around his stomach.
Dustin, bless his precocious little heart, must also notice, because he quickly starts up a seemingly impromptu game of charades, meaning that Eddie is soon distracted by his ridiculously over the top gestures.
“No, Steve, how are you not getting this?”
“I thought the whole appeal of this game was that you’re not meant to talk, Henderson. Dude, watch it, you nearly took Max’s eye out with… whatever the hell that was.”
“Oh my god, it’s Back to the Future, obviously! Ow, Max, I didn’t mean to—uh, yeah, the mime needs to be that big, how else am I gonna project what—”
“Dustin, I swear to god, I’m about to project you out the window,” Steve drawls.
Eddie laughs, hides it behind his hand.
But Steve must catch it, because he glances over at Eddie and winks before he’s dragged back into guessing another movie title.
And Robin’s obviously seen Steve wink before—he does it all the time, so much so that she’s become quite adept at reading when it’s a friendly one for her, or if he’s sharing some kind of in-joke with one of the kids.
She’s also seen his attempts at a ‘smooth’ wink towards some girls at work—and look, he’s Steve Harrington, it’s not like he’s going to be bad at it.
But if you ask Robin, it’s never looked quite right, like he’s always performing to an audience he’s unsure of.
But this wink doesn’t look like it belongs to either of those categories. Well, it’s got something in common with the first: that it looks entirely natural, as if he’s doing it almost without thinking. Like it just feels right.
They go through some more rounds of charades—Dustin’s gestures, if possible, getting even more dramatic—and Eddie gradually goes from contributing a few guesses to none at all, curling up on the backseat. He looks utterly wiped out.
Robin tries to catch Nancy’s eye, and after a few attempts, she gets the message, stands up with a nod.
“Okay, let’s take this outside, guys.”
“Spoken like a true camp counsellor,” Max says.
Nancy acts like she’s offended, but her lips keep twitching into a smile. “Max, never say that to me again.”
“There’s more space outside,” Erica says, “so we can duck out the way of Dustin’s windmilling arms.”
“Hey!”
“I’m bored of charades,” Lucas says. “We could do another competition? Like, I dunno, cartwheels or handstands or something?”
“Oh sure, so I can show you up?” Max returns, grinning.
Steve scoffs. “Uh, if you’re doing a cartwheel competition, I would win.”
“Since when?” Dustin says, an obvious taunt that Steve predictably rises to, flipping him off.
“Save your athletics for Vecna, please,” Nancy cuts in dryly.
“It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Lucas gestures to Steve’s stomach, a little uncertainly. “You know, considering…”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Under normal circumstances, I would kick all your asses.”
“Sure,” Robin says brightly, “but Steve, if you do literally anything more strenuous than sitting down right now, I’m gonna—”
“Uh, Steve would kick your asses, actually,” Eddie says slowly. His voice is muffled from the way his hand’s holding up his chin, partly covering his mouth. “He did gymnastics.”
Robin, surprised, looks to Steve; he’s doing that thing where he scratches at his cheek unconsciously, seems to be a mixture of embarrassed and pleased.
“How’d you know that?” he asks.
Eddie shrugs. “We didn’t have a cover for gym one time, remember? There was a whole group of us slacking off but you just kept doing, y’know,” he twirls his fingers, “tricks on that box thingy.”
“Vaulting box,” Steve corrects like he can’t stop himself. He’s sporting an almost abashed little smile that Robin’s never seen before.
Eddie shrugs again. “S’all Greek to me,” he says, interrupts himself halfway through with a deep yawn.
Steve’s eyes soften. And then he’s ushering the kids outside, “C’mon, you can do whatever competition you want for thirty minutes before we get to work.”
“Got it, coach.”
“Shut up, Mayfield.”
“I’ll be your stopwatch if you’re doing handstands,” Nancy chips in, bringing up the rear—she catches Robin’s eye again, subtly tilts her head in Eddie’s direction and mouths Stay?
Robin nods.
“Uh, that won’t be accurate at all,” comes Dustin’s rebuttal—he’s outside now, but his voice still carries. “Unless you can like accurately keep time in your head down to the second—”
“Oh my god, Dustin, you’re such a shithead.”
“Nancy Wheeler, I’m heartbroken.”
Steve’s chuckle floats through the open door. “She said it, dude, not me.”
“You say it all the goddamn time!”
And then the voices fade away until all Robin can hear is distant laughs and joyful screams. It’s relaxing, in its own way.
“No gymnastics for you, Buckley?” Eddie says.
“Nope, not since 7th grade. Managed two cartwheels before I broke my wrist.”
Eddie winces in sympathy. He’s slumping a bit more; Robin makes herself comfy in the opposite corner of the backseat, gives him the most space.
She feels a weird lump at her back, behind one of the cushions. A quick investigation reveals an issue of TV Guide Magazine.
“Ooh, we can find out what we missed while on the run,” she says, waggling it in front of Eddie.
He smiles with a small huff. “Doubt it. Says 1981 on the front.”
“What’s a little more time travel?”
Robin flicks through to the crossword. She’s all too aware that Eddie’s still sat more stiffly than anything else. With Steve, it would be so easy; she could prod him in the thigh with her toe, light touches until he took the hint and relaxed.
But even before they’d really become friends, they were tactile: a tap on the shoulder to grab attention, bumping hips to move each other out of the way whenever they were scooping ice-cream at the same time. It’d been done so unconsciously, like they were already learning to read each other’s minds.
With Eddie, it’s clear that a different approach is needed.
Robin had caught onto that after her misstep at the boathouse, a pit in her stomach at the sight of Eddie’s hands shaking.
But her instinct to reach out, to soothe, made her unthinkingly try again; as they walked in the woods, she’d heard his breathing quicken, and her hand lightly brushed his back. She drew back as he instantly flinched at her touch.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said hurriedly. “Just—just checking you were okay. Sorry.”
Eddie just stared at her before nodding hesitantly.
And Robin wanted to tell him that it wasn’t by chance, that he had people who cared about him; that she did, and it wasn’t a fluke or an accident—she was choosing it.
She keeps her eyes on the magazine, jots down a few crossword answers. It reminds her of summer days spent reading on her grandparents’ porch, not wanting to startle a cat her grandpa had rescued as it approached her. It was always so spooked.
“You’ve just gotta let him come to you, sweet pea,” her grandma would say.
After a couple minutes, she hears Eddie breathe out, the creak of the seat as he lies down. He rests his head right next to her thigh.
“S’good?” he asks, pointing at the magazine.
“It’s pretty easy.” One of the crossword clues is ‘The Lion, the Witch, and the?’ which isn’t exactly taxing. “I’m used to doing the cryptic ones.”
Eddie laughs. He kinda sounds fond. “Of course you are.”
“They’re not that hard, once you know how to read ‘em.”
“Hmm, I doubt that. Lay one on me, Buckley.”
She purses her lips in thought. “Oh, I got this one last week. Condition of Wyoming, five letters.”
Eddie lifts his head ever so slightly to give her a blank look. “Not a fucking clue.”
“State. Get it? ‘Cause ‘condition’ is the definition, and Wyoming is literally—”
“God, I’m surrounded by geniuses.”
“Well, I’ve got the advantage of a summer of code-breaking.”
Robin slowly raises her hand as she speaks—makes sure to do it in Eddie’s line of vision, spots that he doesn’t pull back, that he even gives the tiniest half-nod. She pats his head twice.
Eddie scrunches up his nose. “Sorry, my hair’s gross.”
“It’s not that bad,” Robin says honestly. “Y’know for being on the run, it’s holding up pretty well. I’m getting whatever shampoo you use.”
Eddie smiles. “Sure.”
“Yours is looking way better than mine did after, like, one day getting wrapped up in all this.” Again, without really thinking, Robin adds, “I had all this sweat and blood and puke in it.”
Eddie’s eyes are closed now. He makes an unhappy sound, prods gently at her knee. “You’ve all gotta work on telling me horrific shit. That should not be casual for you, Buckley.”
He sounds emphatic—protective, even. Robin feels unexpectedly emotional.
“Yeah, sorry. Bad habit.”
Silence falls, and by the time Steve enters the RV, Robin has filled in the whole crossword, Eddie dozing by her side.
Steve’s getting another bottle of water—actually drinking it this time. He’s got grass stains on his knees, and he’s sweating slightly, like the ‘stay still’ advice hasn’t once been taken.
His eyes soften again when he sees Eddie sleeping—he doesn’t need to linger, but he does.
Robin watches.
We need more time, Steve, she thinks suddenly. For you to keep looking at him like that—for him to be awake to see it.
Steve tears his eyes away. Lands on her.
She smiles, mouthing What?
Steve rolls his eyes. He imitates her ‘what?’ mockingly, but then he smiles back and taps at his wrist, mimes winding a watch on. It’s what they do whenever they’re slammed at work, wanting to talk, but only able to briefly catch each other’s eyes in the rush. Later.
She taps her wrist. Later, she promises.
He gives her a double thumbs up—what a dork—before heading back outside.
Robin quietly puts the magazine away. Ever so carefully, she lightly strokes Eddie’s hair, feels her heart swell and break at the same time when he sighs contentedly in his sleep.
You’d better look after yourself, Eddie Munson, she thinks. You’ve got people here. People who really want you to stick around.
2K notes · View notes
plistommy · 2 months
Text
”I love him” CUTE
669 notes · View notes
steveshairychest · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
stobin when they apply for a job
7K notes · View notes
hannibaldjarin · 10 months
Text
Before the Upside Down, Steve Harrington could sleep like the dead. Once he laid his head on the checkered pattern pillow, Steve would be oblivious to anything happening in the world around him as he found solace in his dreams.
Steve would never admit it to Tommy H or Carol, but his dreams were his only safe place. In Steve's dream world, he wasn't the son to absent parents or the perfect King Steve; he was whatever version of himself that would've never been allowed around the Harringtons or the population at Hawkins High. Steve was comforted by the anonymity that was created as he slept till an alarm or the sunlight peeking through his curtains woke him.
Before the Upside Down, Eddie Munson would laugh as he told the rest of Corroded Coffin about how much he slept during the weekend. But, groan when Uncle Wayne stomped into his bedroom at 4pm wondering, "Boy, since when did you become a vampire?"
Basically, Eddie found it hilarious that he could sleep 16 hours a day and still go to bed at 9pm every night. One thing about Eddie Munson before that fated afternoon with Chrissy Cunningham, he could sleep like a corpse and never worry about sleep avoiding his clutches. Because as Uncle Wayne or a member of Corroded Coffin could tell anyone, Eddie loved to sleep and would theoretically kill anyone who tried to disrupt his slumber.
After the Upside Down, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington found solace in one another as they struggled to remember who they were before circumstances led them to emotional, mental, and physical scars. Steve could no longer find comfort in his dream world as it replayed his most traumatizing moments from the last couple of years. Eddie could no longer sleep like the dead since he actually knew what it felt like to lay limp and face death.
Eddie and Steve stare into one another's eyes as they share a pillow in Steve's massive bed. Eddie whispers to Steve about how envious he is of his past self as he dramatically recounts Uncle Wayne's stomps or Corroded Coffin's scoffs. As Eddie spoke, Steve wonders if Eddie could be trusted with his deepest secrets about who he wishes he could be.
As Eddie's giggles fade into the dark of the night, Steve clears in throat and begins to tell Eddie about the lack of safety he has felt since turning 12 and being handed bundles of money that were to be budgeted until his parents came back home from whatever business trip Jonathan Harrington needed to attend. Steve mumbles about Tommy and Carol, or anyone else, never being able to fill the hollow space that was this mausoleum of a house until Dustin Henderson hijacked Nancy's roses and forced Steve to go on a wild demo dog chase. With a smile that actually reaches Steve's eyes, he tells Eddie how he finally knew what a mutual love felt like when Robin refused to get a new job without Steve.
Eddie desperately wants to read between the lines and believe himself to be someone who brought something into Steve's life. The begging words he sends up to whatever universal force doesn't want to continue fucking his life are interrupted as Steve looks Eddie in the eyes and admits, "Eddie Munson, you brought light and noise into my life."
Steve Harrington never understood how significant it was to feel the sun on his skin until Eddie woke up from his coma after his encounter with the bats, and begged for the blinds in his hospital room to be opened. Eddie's smile changed as he adjusted to the new scars on his skin, but Steve has never seen something so beautiful in his life.
Steve flinched in noisy environments when he remembers how angry his father would get if Steve existed too loudly. But, since Eddie took Steve to the middle of nowhere and convinced him to just scream, Steve has found himself seeking out music that taught him to release his emotions instead of pushing them further and further down.
Steve Harrington finally found safety in the real world when Eddie Munson whispers, "Stevie, please let me kiss you."
1K notes · View notes
withacapitalp · 10 months
Text
Steddie idea where Dustin is pressing on Robin and Steve about dating again and Steve decides to just blurt out that he's gay but the kind of gay that likes both and that's why he and Robin can't date (Robin apparently just doesn't count as one of the both in his mind for some reason?) Dustin tries to get Steve to see that but he's also in the 'my brother came out to me I must be supportive' mindset, so he instantly decides to flip to Steve you should date Eddie!
1K notes · View notes
thefreakandthehair · 5 months
Text
Eddie and Steve in their 30s, bundled up on the couch in a nest of combined blankets and pillows. Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Years Eve drones on in the background and Steve’s laying lengthwise across the couch with his head in Eddie’s lap, snoozing away as Eddie absentmindedly scratches his scalp and plays with his hair.
The years of going out and hosting parties are contentedly behind them, replaced instead with a quiet domesticity Eddie quite frankly can’t believe he prefers these days. But he does. Paul Anka’s singing a rendition of John Lennon’s Imagine, the Christmas tree is still up and fully lit in the corner of the room, and Steve is breathing slow, even breaths. It’s more than he’d ever dared to hope for.
10… 9… 8
“Steve?” He whispers, leaning down.
7… 6… 5…
“Mm? Is it the New Year?”
4… 3… 2…
“Just in time, Sweetheart.”
1!
Eddie smiles against Steve’s lips and kisses him, just like he had that first New Years Eve all those years ago. He kisses Steve well into the new year, and doesn’t plan to ever stop.
857 notes · View notes
steviewashere · 4 months
Text
Cuddle Bug
Rating: General CW: None apply for this one! Tags: Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Cuddling, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Tooth-rotting Fluff, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington's Friendship
For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is feeling safe."
💕—————💕
The first time it happens, Eddie doesn’t say anything. Sort of just reigns himself for a night on the sofa, stiff to the cushions, hands spread and tight by his sides. Steve fell asleep on top of him. His snores directed right over Eddie’s heart. And Eddie is hopeless, really, helpless, too. He didn’t say anything or do anything. Even though he had to pee. But, when he thought about it, Steve had been especially tired—beyond spacey the entire day they hung out. So it was for the best that he just ignored whatever was happening. Eddie let himself fall asleep, too.
However, it kept happening.
Almost every time that Eddie came over. When he would lay on the length of Steve’s couch. Arms loose by his sides. The television on low. Steve would enter the room with a bowl of popcorn. He’d sit on the floor, make Eddie comb his fingers through his hair, and eat his little bowl of food. Then, at some point, he’d let out a jaw cracking yawn, stand to his full height, pop every vertebrae of his spine, and gently ask, “Can I lay on top of you? It’s okay if that’s too—“
“Just lay down, dude. You’re blocking the show.” And sure, maybe Eddie would be a little snippy with it. But not too rough. Not too dejecting. Because he liked Steve, loved really, and he would let Steve do anything to him.
Steve would lay down on him. His right arm tucked between Eddie’s body and the couch, his other arm dangling to the floor. Head cushioned on Eddie’s chest. Eyes pointed at the television. Yet, fifteen minutes in, he’d close his eyes and begin snoring. He’d jerk with the movement. Go boneless against Eddie’s torso. And Eddie would just have to deal with it. Because in no way is he going to be the one to make Steve lose even more sleep. No way. No how.
So it happens. And it keeps happening. And maybe Eddie’s heart is starting to do stupid things. And maybe Eddie just gestures to his body when Steve is done with the popcorn. And maybe, sometimes, his hand hovers over the back of Steve’s skull, ready to land on his hair, ready to just cup him there and hold him gently, like he deserves. But he doesn’t allow himself to touch. Not at all. Just wondering what it would be like. To just hold him. Not play with his hair. To carefully embrace him, that’s all.
Except, it happens one night when Robin’s over. And Eddie knows he won’t be able to explain the dynamic.
They’re watching something on the TV, as usual. Steve’s on the floor. Eddie’s hand is in his hair. They’re eating from the same bowl of microwave popcorn. Robin’s honk laughing in the recliner. And all is well.
Until, “Can I lay down on you?” Steve asks. And Eddie, without really acknowledging much of anything, just waves his hand to his torso. Steve stands from the floor, pops his spine, wipes his greasy hands on his sweatpants, and settles down over the length of Eddie’s body. He cushions his cheek. And he sighs contently.
The colors on the television reflect on his face. Blue and pink and purple and pink. Pink and red and red and green. Then, pink and pink and pink and pink. And then he’s snoring. He’s snoring. His body is jolting with it. Relaxing into the tight line of Eddie’s body. And Eddie holds his hands up from his sides. A hand hovering over the slight curve to Steve’s spine. The other, over his head, fingers twitching to settle in his hair.
Robin must look over at some point. She whispers, raspy and gentle, “He only does that around the people he loves and is most comfortable with.”
“What?” Eddie squeaks back, attempting to be quiet.
“He only does this with the people he loves,” she explains, “when he hasn’t been sleeping well. And he feels like he can trust you. Like he thinks that you’ve got him? He cuddles like this.” She makes the recliner creak. Her footsteps soft on the carpet. She’s crouching in the corner of Eddie’s eye. Her face looking onto Steve softly. “He says it helps him with the nightmares. He gets them too much. Doesn’t sleep through the night unless somebody is there with him. To hold him. You should hold him.”
And, she does the oddest thing, she stands up and leaves.
Like, leaves the room, leaves the house kind of leaving. And Eddie panics a little, because, What? What is he supposed to make of that?
The only logical thing is following her advice. One hand on Steve’s spine. The other cupping the back of his head. His middle finger tickling over Steve’s exposed temple. He sighs into the hold.
But then Steve stirs a little. “Robbie?” His sleepy voice slurs.
“It’s Eddie,” he says. “How about we get you to bed upstairs, cuddle bug?”
“Mh,” Steve grunts. “Tired.”
“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Eddie assures. “We can go to sleep upstairs. I’ll cuddle with you, if you want.”
“Really?” Steve murmurs, voice going quieter, nearly back asleep.
Eddie shifts his hold. Squeezing a little. “Yeah, Stevie. Let’s go upstairs and sleep, okay? I’ll keep you safer up there.”
“Okay,” Steve mutters.
“I got you,” Eddie promises.
“Got me,” Steve utters back. “Hands got me.”
“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles, “Hands got you.” And resigns himself to carrying Steve to his bedroom. Plopping him down on the bed. Getting under the covers. And holding him to the side of his body. Warm and content. With something, he can taste it, like love.
💕—————💕
480 notes · View notes